


Interlude: When Shireen Met Rickon's Family

by CidyKitty



Series: Wild Heart [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Cute, F/M, Family Fluff, Light Smut, M/M, Meet the Family, Other, Possessive Rickon, Shy Shireen, Stark Family, sleep overs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:23:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CidyKitty/pseuds/CidyKitty
Summary: Shireen meets the rest of Rickon's family during family dinner. Awkwardness ensues.





	Interlude: When Shireen Met Rickon's Family

Meanwhile in the basement …… 

 

 

Bran reclined in the plush seat and paid little attention the movie. The basement “theater” was composed of a large plush sectional couch, a mini fridge full of snacks and soda, and a wall to wall television that their father had gotten to keep them occupied when they got restless around the house. Although, like the dining room, it became a family hub. They threw themselves on the couch on the weekend nights and argued over movies and TV shows. Now, though, the room was a meeting place.  
Sansa paced in front of the television, her hands on the hips of her embroidered jeans. 

“She’s up there right now!” Sansa said, she was losing her mind down here, Bran summed. Everyone else had thrown themselves into their usual spots. Bran had lifted himself into one of the seats, Robb sat on the larger part of the sectional with Roslin in his lap, Arya had her head in Roslin’s lap and was playing on her DS and Theon was sprawled across the floor squinting at the TV screen. No one seemed as worked up as Sansa. Part of that was probably because Sandor was at work and couldn’t come and round her out and Gendry wasn’t here to make Arya care about anything. Bran, unlike his siblings, could even himself out well on his own. 

“Why don’t you just sit down, San.” He said, and patted the seat next to him. She flung herself over to him and sat down, resting her red head on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through her hair. 

“Mom said we can come upstairs in a few hours. We have to at least pretend we were watching the movie.” He said, gesturing toward the screen where Batman was suiting up. 

“For the record, I was trying to watch the movie.” Arya said, her voice a mumble her eyes still trained on the screen of her game. 

“I don’t understand why we can’t go upstairs.” Sansa pouted and Bran wished Sandor were here. 

“Because you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself, Arya would embarrass herself, you know Rickon gets mad at Robb for everything he says and Jon isn’t here to even it out and Theon would open is big mouth and get us all in trouble. Remember the last time one of us brought someone home?” It had been Bran bringing Jojen and the whole thing spiraled down so fast all Bran could remember is Jon pushing Theon onto his birthday cake and Arya jumping on Jon’s back and then there was cake everywhere and Catelyn had sprayed them off in the backyard with the cold water from the water hose and berated them. 

“That was a onetime thing!” Theon said from the ground, eyes not leaving the screen. 

Bran snorted, it wasn’t. When Robb brought Roslin there had been a water fight. When Sansa brought Sandor, there had been a minor grease fire in the kitchen and when Arya brought Gendry the two of them fled out of her bedroom window and drove away. 

“Rickon is mom’s favorite. And he supposedly is head over heels for this Shireen. At least that’s what Mom said. So she’s going to protect him and her. Even if that means tossing us in the basement.” Arya said. 

It was well known information around the Stark household that Rickon was their mother’s favorite child. He was babied, he was coddled by both Ned and Catelyn, but mostly Catelyn. Rickon had been a sickly and colicky baby, Robb remembered it well, he remembered hating his little brother because he was always at the breast. Always suckling and crying. If he wasn’t being fed by their mother, who spent all hours of the day cooing at him and rubbing his back he was being rocked by Ned, and cuddled. As a toddler he ran wild. With Ned always chasing him about and Catelyn not far behind. 

He got whatever he wanted. Candy in the grocery store, new toys, he wasn’t forced to get his hair cut, a tattoo when he was 16, a car, his own room when he was younger, they had converted Ned’s office into Rickon’s room in the span of three days after he got tired of rooming with Bran even though Jon was about to move out and give up his room. The boy was spoiled rotten and knew how to play their parents just right. He would just join his father in his morning jog and look up at him with big blue eyes, and ask for a new car. Or he would crawl into bed with their mother early Sunday morning and cuddle into her and ask – politely – if he could go with his friends to an out of town concert for the weekend. 

“What do you think she’s like? You know, to put up with Rickon.” 

Putting up with Rickon was a mild way of saying it. Rickon was a handful, while he was sweet to his parents, no one was fooled by the boy – not even their sweet mother. He was more than a handful. Bran could remember many physical fights between them and he and his brothers. He had been a picked on child but not as a young adult. He had been suspended from school multiple times for getting into fist fights and physical alterations. He had a huge attitude and wasn’t afraid to throw in a snarky comment or a knowing look. Many verbal fights between he and Sansa, and Arya had attacked him a few times with a wooden spoon and a kitchen towel. 

“She’s probably no better than him.” Sansa said, turning her nose up. “An urchin.” She said, Bran poked her in the side and she giggled. There was no real malice in the words, no one held any real contempt for Rickon, maybe real frustration, but no real contempt. 

“It’s not a bad thing! He just needs someone who is just like him.” Rickon wasn’t a bad seed, so to speak, he was just wild.

“When can we go upstairs.” Sansa whined loudly, Arya chucked a pillow at her. Used to this behavior, Sansa just bat it away. 

“As soon as the movie is over.” Robb said. Shooting Sansa a look that said, ‘don’t even try it.’ 

As the movie progressed he watched Sansa grow more and more restless, Roslin had dosed to sleep a little bit, her eyes jumping open everyone now and then as she fought to stay awake. Arya had snuggled up to Sansa, who playfully shoved her at first and then held fast to her littler, fiercer sister. Bran didn’t even know the credits had rolled until Theon jumped to his feet and Sansa pushed Arya on the floor. Bouncing excitedly. 

“Lets go!” She crowed. Robb stood, Roslin sleepily rubbed her eyes and chuckled at Arya’s baleful glare at Sansa for being dumped on the floor.  
Robb helped Bran into his chair, and began pushing him toward the ramp. Sansa barreled up the stairs, being chased by an angry Arya, who was being chased by a peacekeeping Roslin who had pushed Theon over to get behind them. 

“Girls! Don’t! Arya don’t hit Sansa!” She called, following them up the stairs. Robb pushed Bran up the ramp on the other side of the stairs. At times when he had enough strength in his legs he was able to do the stairs, it was good exercise, but that day was not today. His legs trembled even thinking about it. 

Sansa pushed the basement door open with a bang and walked around the other side to the dining room, calmly walking, she was attempting to be sneaky, but Arya was sneakier, she ran up behind her and popped her in the back of the head. 

“Don’t push me.” She hissed. They scrapped for a moment before Robb made it up the stairs and grabbed them both by the hands and pulled them around to the kitchen. 

Catelyn and Ned were moving around in the living room, their own movie having just finished, the credits still rolling on the screen. Catelyn was giving them ‘the look’ the look that said, ‘I know you’re going to Stark this up, but don’t. I’m watching you.’ 

And there was Rickon. He was sitting at the dinning room table, scowling at them, as he usually was. His hair was coming out of a bun that was quickly losing its shape, curled tendrils falling from the stretched out hair tie that belonged to Arya. His mouth was set in a dull scowl, lips barely forming any shape at all. But his eyes said it all, the stormy Tully blue eyes glowering at them. 

And there was Shireen. 

She was a beacon in a yellow sweater. She was tucked at the dinning room table, a fold out construction board was closed and there was a scattering of think markers; evidence on her fingers dots of red and yellow and purple. Rickon’s biology book was thrown open on the table. Shireen was sitting, looking as if she was trying to disappear into the furniture, her little hands tipped with light baby pink finger nail polish folded in her lap. Legs folded together and crossed under the table. A curtain of blue-black hair draped over her shoulders and back. Her wavy bangs hiding her forehead. She made eye contact with Sansa, her expression one of wary introduction, her bright startlingly blue eyes bore into Sansa’s own. Sansa let her eyes wander over her face, thinking of Sandor in that way. A net of scars ran over the side of her face, an intricate weave of veins, bruising and discolored skin. The skin looked neither full nor soft, a roadmap of damage. As half of Shireen’s lip dragged up in a smile, Sansa realized that she probably had no feeling on one side of her mouth. Arya slammed into her back from walking to fast and peered around her shoulder. 

Catelyn bustled around the corner of the couch to make introductions. 

“Give her some room, jeez.” Robb scolded coming around the other side of the table with Roslin. They collapsed into chairs and let out yawns. Theon not far behind, scratching his head, giving Arya a pat on the shoulder as he fell into his own chair. 

“I’m Robb.” Robb held his hand out to Rickon’s little girlfriend, who gave him a brief handshake with her tiny hand. She looked nothing like he thought she would but he supposed she was beautiful all the same, unique to say the least. With her contrasting features, upturned nose and big eyes. Bran rolled himself to his end of the table, fitting into the spot with ease. Before he could introduce himself, Rickon interrupted in the voice that meant he was running out of patience. 

“Shireen these are my siblings, this is Sansa, Arya, Bran and Robb and Robb’s girlfriend Roslin and Theon, who is somehow part of this family but I'm blurry on the details. There.” He said. Catelyn fused a fist to her hip in irritation at the lack of manners in her youngest child. 

“Rickon” Sansa scolded. “Maybe Shireen wanted to introduce herself. You shouldn’t speak for her.” 

Rickon snorted, “She didn’t.” 

Shireen’s little hand came around and swat Rickon on the shoulder, Rickon didn’t even flinch from the impact, of which must have felt like getting hit by a feather down pillow. 

“Don’t get sassy.” She scolded him. Sansa’s face grew into a wicked smile. She was going to like Shireen. 

Catelyn intervened. “Shireen dear, are you staying for dinner?"

Shireen visibly flushed, “I-I-I mean if y-you don’t m-mind. I don’t want to a bo-“ Rickon interrupted her. 

“You won’t be a bother. It’s fine.” He said. The words were said in the gentlest of manners that Sansa and Catelyn nearly melted into a puddle on the floor. He tilted his head to her and said the words in a gentle tone that none of his family had ever heard before. 

“Then it’s settled.” Catelyn clapped her hands together. “How does pizza sound?” Ordering Pizza was probably the safest of options, Catelyn surmised, it would keep the kids out of the kitchen where they couldn’t cause food fights or grease fires. 

As Catelyn turned to go to the kitchen to order pizza, Sansa found her opportunity to strike. 

“So Shireen.” Sansa flopped into the chair closest to Rickon and placed her chin on her palm, looking the girl right in the eye, avoiding eye contact with Rickon who was all but growling at her. “You go to school with Rickon?” She asked. 

She knew this was true, of course. Rickon’s attendance had been miraculously better since he started dating Shireen. 

“Yes. We have biology together.” She said, her voice was gentle and placating, soothing like river water over rocks. 

“Aw” Sansa cooed. “Is that where you met.” 

Shireen shook her head, “No. Well, Yes. But No.” Sansa blinked in confusion, Shireen flushed harder. 

“Well. Yes. I met him from biology. But not in biology because he was never – um – there.” At the end of the sentence her skin was flushed bright, red-pink. 

Sansa glared at Rickon, “I knew you weren’t going to your first hour.” She scolded. And then turned back to Shireen, “That’s cute. You’re so cute.” The flush that had been receding was back full force. Rickon glared at her mockingly, “You just rat me out huh?” There was no malice in the gentle words at all, she gave him a sheepish, shy smile. 

“You only have one class together?” Bran asked from down the table. 

“She’s in all these other advanced classes.” Rickon rolled his eyes, he gave her the gentlest of nudges, barely jostling her, “Nerd.” 

“Are you going to go to University when you’ve finished?” 

Shireen nodded, “I’ve been accepted to both Kings University and Eastwatch U. I’m just trying to decide where to go.” 

Bran piqued, intrigued, "You know I've hea-" 

“Ah, Bran.” Rickon interrupted. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” He said. Bran raised a challenging brow at his brother. 

“You told me Lord of the Rings wasn’t a good movie. I’ve seen all three now and I disagree. And so does Shireen, by the way.” 

And the evening continued as such, as they joked lightly and prodded each other, Shireen and Bran discussing the highs and lows of the films Catelyn only hoped that the evening continued going this well. That no food got thrown, no water fights broke out and no one had to sneak away, absconding into the night.  
She stood mostly in the shadows and watched as Rickon doted on his little girlfriend, petting her hair, gently kissing her ear in a way that made Catelyn blush – no mother should see that type of intimacy from her son – and holding her hand. The pizza came and everyone helped themselves, Shireen eating only one piece while Rickon downed 3 pieces, and Robb even eating five. 

Everything had been going so well, Catelyn knew she shouldn’t have held out so much hope. As she was clearing the table of pizza remnants and was about to ask around for dessert Sansa opened her mouth, Sansa had this thing – that Catelyn was sure was a northerners curse. Curiosity and wary for the strange and unexplainable took over their mannerisms, leaving common decency in the trash. Sansa asked:  
“So what happened to your face?” 

Catelyn dropped the pizza box and stared open mouthed at Sansa, who was licking pizza sauce off her fingers as if she had just inquired about the weather.  
Shireen flinched and withdrew into herself, falling into her yellow sweater, arms crossing around her middle eyes darting around the table. Catelyn resisted the urge to pop her oldest daughter on the back of the head. 

Rickon turned into a block of ice, the smile melting off of his face, his lip dragging up into a snarl. He looked every bit like his wolf-dog at that moment, he brought his hand to the back of Shireen’s neck, gripping a handful of her hair. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He snarled at his sister. Sansa raised her hands in a pose of surrender. 

“I’m just asking what we’re all wondering.” She said, her face going red in anger at Rickon’s tone. Catelyn braced herself for the fight. Ned was gripping the arms of his chair in what was probably a mix of embarrassment and preparedness. 

“You can take your questions and shove it up you’re a-“ Shireen clapped a hand over Rickon’s growling mouth. She smiled apologetically to Sansa. 

“I’m sorry. I knew you would be curious but most people don’t ask. It’s from an accident when I was a child. My mother got involved with some bad people and made some poor choices. This was one of them. It’s an acid burn. It’s also on my upper arm and my leg.” She said. The table was eerily quiet. 

“I-I-I’m sorry that happened to you. Really, and I should have kept my mouth shut.” Sansa said, apologetic. Shireen took the apology in stride and smiled politely at everyone. 

“Thank you for dinner Mr. and Ms. Stark. But It’s getting late so I should head home soon.” She said. 

The words flew out of Catelyn’s mouth, “You’re not staying the night?” 

Arya’s jaw dropped looking at Catelyn in betrayal, Catelyn who still wouldn’t let Gendry stay the night and makes Sandor sleep in the couch. “You can stay in Rickon’s room with him. We don’t mind if your parents don’t mind.” 

“Bullshit.” Arya interrupted. Ned swat her on the head. 

“O-o-oh I, well, I –“ 

“She’ll stay.” Rickon interrupted. 

 

 

 

Shireen looked around Rickon’s room with one part curiosity one part familiarity. Because it was so … Rickon. The walls were covered in posters and paintings, his bed, the biggest bed she had ever seen – was pushed up against one wall with a TV on a dresser at the end, the covers weren’t made, the bathroom that was connected to the room still had a damp towel on the floor. His computer was running, but the screen was black and a stack of school textbooks that he never brought with him was sitting on top of Shaggy’s cage. 

Shaggy himself was the biggest darkest dog she had ever seen. He had barely thrown them a glance when they came in the door and was shooed off the bed where Rickon flopped down. Shireen explored, running the tip of her finger over CD”s and DVD backs taking in the titles and songs that he owned and loved. He watched her from the bed, and she tried not to blush at the fire that was burning in his eyes. The same fire he got when they were alone at her house or at the drive in theater on the weekends. 

“Stop staring at me like that.” She scolded him. 

“I can’t help it. I’ve never pictured you here.” His bright blue eyes bore into hers as she turned to look at him. 

“Well Romeo, not to burst your bubble but I need to take a shower, my hair is gross and I need to wash this makeup off.” She confessed.  
“Told you not to put that shit on in the first place.” He said lightly, he leapt out of bed and dug around in the dresser, pulling out a plain white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of dark red boxers. And a towel. 

“It’s all yours.” 

Rickon’s bathroom was also so … Rickon. Dark red shower rugs and a beige curtain in the medicine cabinet there was the aftershave that smelled like him, a stack of rainbow colored hair ties and a face wash that smelled like him. She used the face wash and the unscented bar of soap to wash the perfume and makeup off her skin. Gently running her hands over her burn scars, massaging the cluster on her legs. The water was soothing on her skin after she felt like she spent the last couple of hours blushing her face off. 

She dried off with the towel and pulled on the boxers and T-shirt before joining Rickon back in his room, flopping next to him on the bed, putting her wet hair directly on his sleepy bare chest. 

“Ah, there she is.” She smacked him lightly on the chest. He had been complaining since he picked her up that she wasn’t herself because she rubbed on some perfume and some makeup, things that she normally didn’t bother with unless they went to Osha’s bar (Where he would spend the whole night trying to rub her make up off her face with a napkin.) 

“I’ve been here all day. I’m allowed to try to look nice for your family.” She scolded him. He caught her tiny hand in his and placed a kiss on it, working kisses down her arm and elbow. 

He rolled her gently so that she was flat on her back, leg thrown over his hip, his hips pressed into hers. She gave his shoulders a push. 

“Your parents are downstairs.” She whisper scolded him. He didn’t finch nor blush. 

“And? We’re upstairs with the door shut and locked, and I need some Shireen.” He said, bending down and kissing her lips. The warmth that blossomed in her stomach was still a new feeling, no matter how many times they did this, no matter how many times he brought her to her peak and kissed her everywhere that there is flesh the feeling of being loved and wanted never seemed familiar to Shireen. 

He kissed down her neck, to her clavicle to the top of her right breast. His closed mouth kisses turning into warm open mouthed things, leaving more blotched over the already healing purple bruises that were there. 

She became easily swept up in the feeling on Rickon, the way his hands swept up her hips, grasping the band of the boxers and yanking them down her legs and bare middle pressing into his own boxers, his mouth taking in a pointed nipple with a light suck. 

As she wound her hands in his long hair closing her eyes at the feeling on his hips grinding into hers, she was jolted out of her pleasure center. 

Someone was knocking at the door. 

“It’s Sansa, can we talk?” Shireen pushed Rickon to the side and pulled up the boxers, trying to arrange her wet hair and the blankets so that it didn’t look like they were about to roll in the hay. 

Rickon had no such reservations, he stood up, tent in his pants and all and pulled the door open, hissing: “What?” 

Sansa elbowed him to the side to have a look at Shireen, who was hoping that her face wasn’t still at pre-sex mode. 

“I’m so sorry for asking you that awful question. I was just curious because, see, my boyfriend also had burns scars to but yours look different and I was curious, and I should know better. I’m so sorry, please say you forgive me?” She asked. 

Shireen let out a sympathetic little noise as Rickon huffed in annoyance, “Of course I forgive you. I was never upset to begin with. Of course, of course.” She cooed. As the girls cooed at each other Rickon grew impatient. He snagged Sansa by the arm and drug her back out the door. 

“Great. Thanks for the apology. Make us pancakes in the morning. Get out.” He pushed her out and shut the door in her face. Shireen gaped at him. 

“Rickon! That was rude!” 

“What’s more rude is denying me what I’ve been thinking about for hours.” At that he yanked his T-shirt off, his boxers down and Shireen didn’t think about much for the rest of the night. 

 

 

to be continued...

**Author's Note:**

> LOL what do you think? 
> 
> Next up:  
> Interlude: How Shireen Found Out She Was Dating Rickon Stark 
> 
> and then Interlude: How Rickon Met Shireen's Family


End file.
